


the electronics of your heart

by b_o_i



Series: shiro gets a present [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Dirty Talk, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Wall Sex, no choking surprisingly lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-03 21:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_o_i/pseuds/b_o_i
Summary: Keith comes to him wet and open.





	the electronics of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> this is filthy and then soft as shit. dk how that happened lol im a slut for gentle aftercare LMAO

 

Keith comes to him wet and open.   
  
It should startle him, because he knows Keith gets wet but it usually takes time, but it doesn’t. He saw Keith sitting in the audience, in the section reserved for royalty, right in Lotor’s lap. On Lotor’s dick.    
  
So he isn’t surprised when he slides his hands up Keith’s thighs and they’re slick and warm. What he is surprised about is how much it doesn’t bother him. He hardly spares is a second thought, hyped up on adrenaline and the blood rushing through his veins and staining his hands.    
  
He’s glad Keith is here. He’s glad Lotor sent him. All he can think about it the look on Keith’s face when Lotor pulled him back and down and fucked up into him dead in the middle of everything. He’s on him as soon as he’s shoved into the room, pressing him back against the door and kissing him hard.   
  
“Shiro,” Keith gasps, surprised, but grabs at his shoulders with his little hands and pulls him closer. Shiro licks into his mouth; one of his tiny fangs nicks the top of his tongue, but he doesn’t care, just smears the blood across Keith’s lips and keeps on kissing him. He’s spread plenty of blood around today, anyways. He doubts Keith minds.    
  
Unfortunately, he does have to pull back to breathe. He presses his burning forehead against Keith’s and takes deep breaths.   
  
“You fought well tonight,” Keith says, voice soft in the near-dark.    
  
Shiro tries to smile a little, but can’t quite manage, “Thanks. I’m surprised you even saw any of it.”    
  
Keith tenses minutely; Shiro only feels it because he’s pressed up against him so close.    
  
“I always watch your matches.”   
  
Shiro, blood still rushing, Lotor’s smug smile in his head, drags his teeth across his jawline. “It just seemed like you were occupied.”    
  
Keith’s mouth twists up into something delicate. “I... apologize. I didn’t mean for you to see that.”   
  
Shiro snorts a little, sliding his hands up and yeah, his thighs are slick and drying; Keith jerks his legs back, just a bit, like he’s embarrassed, but there’s nowhere for him to go. “It’s not like I haven’t seen all of it already. There’s nothing you could do that would surprise me anymore.”   
  
“Well, I’m sorry I’m so boring,” Keith says, and maybe if Shiro’s heart wasn’t pounding so loud maybe he would notice the hurt in his voice, but right now all he hears is a joke, sarcasm like Keith uses so much once you get to know him.    
  
“It’s okay,” he laughs, “You can make it up to me.”   
  
And Keith doesn’t laugh back, but Shiro is too busy rucking up his dirty silks and feeling the weight of his hips in his hands to care, licking back into Keith’s pliant mouth, rutting up against him.    
  
Keith sucks two of his finger into his mouth even though it’s pretty much useless, and Shiro shoves them up into him, crooking his fingers. He’s still so open, freshly fucked and put away wet. The thought should make Shiro feel sick, make him feel like he’s no better than Lotor, but right now all he cares about is getting his pulsing dick into something. He almost died less than an hour ago. Less than half an hour ago. He had to stab through a creatures heart. He shoves his pants down as far as they need to go to get his dick out, lifts one of Keith’s legs up, and pushes in, right up against the wall. Keith makes some kind of noise, small and hurt, but it’s lost in the hot air.    
  
He knows he should stop and make sure Keith is okay, that he’s properly adjusted to the size of him, but he was sitting on a dick not half an hour ago—both of them doing their work, pleasing their respective crowds—so he knows he’s slick and stretched enough to take him easily.    
  
Keith’s little nails dig into Shiro’s shoulders; he hooks his other leg around Shiro’s waist for leverage, to keep himself from falling, to pull Shiro closer—he doesn’t know, all he knows it that it adjusts the angle and he can fuck in deeper, spear Keith’s little body on his cock without Keith’s feet even touching the ground. The thought is hotter than it has any right to be.

“You’re so wet,” he marvels. Keith makes a sound, a sob or a moan or something in between, and arches against the wall. “Are you this wet because of me?”

Gasping, Keith nods, eyes shut tight. 

_ God, _ that’s hot. “Yeah? Were you thinking about me? He was the one fucking you but you were thinking of me, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Keith moans, head thrown back.

Jesus, Shiro thinks. Fucking christ. He groans against the skin of Keith’s neck.

“Did he make you come?”

“Yes.”

“Did you think about me when you came?”

“Fuck,” Keith gasps, grinding down onto Shiro’s dick with an ease that has Shiro aching, “Y-Yeah, yes.”

“Does he know that?” he asks despite himself.

“He _hates_ it,” Keith admits, voice cracking and shaky, “He gets so -  _ oh _ \- so mad.”

“Is he  _ jealous?” _ Shiro nearly laughs at the idea. It should be ridiculous, but the prince is petty, like a child, and it makes something vicious inside him satisfied at the thrill of it, the idea of having some kind of power over the prince. 

He knows Keith belongs to the prince. Shiro  _ knows  _ he belongs to the prince, he’s heard him say it enough times by now, Lotor was lording it over him a half hour ago, leaving him his sloppy seconds as a reward for stabbing through someone’s heart. Keith belongs to Lotor but he still  _ wants _ him. Some vindictive part of him thrusts in harder, reveling in the boy’s moans, because he knows Keith wants him back. He wants him, not the prince.

Keith reaches for him blindly, gets his little hands in his hair and pulls him down to kiss him hard. He doesn’t kiss Lotor. He only kisses Shiro. That dark, vindictive part of him soars. He lets go of Keith’s hip, dragging his hand up to thumb at his chest, his budding nipples, drag his fingers through his hair and tug.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps, breaking into a long moan when Shiro reaches between them to get his hand around Keith’s weeping dick, “Shiro, Shiro, Shiro.”

“My name sounds so good when you say it,” he babbles, panting when Keith squeezes around him, “You’re so - fucking incredible, god, riding the prince’s dick and thinking about me, taking me so good, like you were - _ god _ \- like you were made for me, so fucking perfect.”

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back so hard it knocks against the wall, and comes. He chenches tight and hot, and Shiro thrusts in as deep as he can, savoring the feeling of Keith pulling him in like he can’t get enough. The thought is enough to send him over the edge, thrusting in once, twice, and filling Keith up even more. God, he’s probably soaking by now, come and slick dripping down his legs and puddling onto the floor. God. 

Shiro gets his hand in his, smearing it all over Keith’s thighs and wiping it across Keith’s swollen lips; Keith takes his fingers into his mouth without question, licking them clean. Shiro feels his dick twitch again, but he’s coming down off the high, doesn’t think he could get it up again if he tried. He feels guilty, maybe, for being so aggressive. Another part of him doesn’t feel guilty at all. 

He lowers Keith gently to the ground, catching him under his arms when his legs buckle. He fucked out his ability to stand. He should feel sorry, but he doesn’t.

Keith laughs weakly, but winces as Shiro helps him sink to the floor.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, worried. 

Keith shakes his head, “I just scraped my back up a little,” he says quietly; Shiro leans to check and yeah, Keith’s silks are dirty and torn from being ground against the wall, and his back is a dirty red. “It’s not that bad,” Keith insists when he makes a wounded noise.

“I hurt you.”

“The prince can be meaner. My back always aches when I have to sleep on the floor.”

Shiro probably makes some kind of face that has Keith’s head ducking in shame. He does that sometimes: mentions something awful offhand like it’s no big deal, and then realizes it’s not normal and feels bad about saying it. 

“I’m still sorry,” he says, because it’s all he can think to say. “Is there anything here to clean it up?’

Keith shrugs, “It’s fine. I’ll wash up later.”

Shiro frowns, but lets it go. Keith seems open, and relaxed, and he doesn’t wanna make him close up. He settles back against the wall. Keith does the same, albeit more carefully. He doesn’t wince, as Shiro does it for him.

There’s silence. 

“I’m sorry I was so rough.”

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have treated you like - “ he breaks off. _ Like Lotor _ , he doesn’t say.

Keith catches on anyways. “It’s okay,” he says again, “I know you’re not - like him.”

More silence. Keith sighs heavy and deep, carefully leans into Shiro’s side. Shiro lets him, tilts his shoulder to give Keith a place to lay his head.

“If you could leave,” Shiro says quietly, “Would you stay with him?”

“I would never make it out of this place,” Keith says, “believe me, I’ve thought through every option.”

“But if you could,” Shiro insists, “If you had the opportunity.”

Keith bites his lip nervously, lits his head to glance around like they’re being watched, “We shouldn’t speak about this. 

Shiro is quiet for a moment. Waits for Keith to speak.

“I would…” he admits, voice hushed, “I would be willing to be yours, if I could.”

Shiro, vaguely, wants to cry, adrenaline crash hitting him hard, “If we could leave, you would never have to belong to anyone again. Especially not me.”

Keith just looks at him for a long moment, and then looks away. “It’s been so long. I can hardly imagine it. I don’t even know where I would go.”

“We could go anywhere.”

“You’d let me go with you? Even if I wasn’t… even if I didn’t…” 

“Of course I would,” Shiro says, “I’d take you anywhere you wanna go.”

“You’ve never been anywhere,” Keith laughs, “You came straight from Earth.”

“You’ve never been to Earth,” Shiro points out, soaking in Keith’s smiles, “I could take you there.”

Keith’s eyes light up in a way Shiro’s never seen. “What’s it like there?”

Shiro thinks for a moment. “It’s… big,” he starts. “There are lots of different climates, and lots of different people. It’s cold some places, warm in others, dry or wet or windy. There’s lots of water, one big ocean.”

Keith listens with rapt attention, hanging onto every word.

“What part of it do you come from?”

“An island,” Shiro says, softening at the thought of his home, of this grandmother, “It’s not very big, but it’s where the sun comes up.”

Keith tilts his head against the wall, and settle in to listen. Shiro tells him about the cherry blossoms, and snow in the winter, and how different Arizona was when he moved there to live at the Garrison. He tells him about Matt and the dry expanse of the desert and how fast you can drive with nothing out there to stop you, and about their road trip to California and the beach and the sand and the smell of salt in the air. He talks until his voice cracks and goes rough and scratchy. 

“The beach sounds nice,” Keith says softly, wonder in his voice.

“I’d take you there,” he promises, “I’d teach you how to swim, even though I barely know how.”

“I think I’d be scared of sinking.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

Something in Keith’s face cracks, and softens. He buries his face in the curve of Shiro’s neck and, very quietly, begins to shake. 

The guards come for him give or take half an hour later. He gives Shiro a soft smile and a wave goodbye, and Shiro wishes with everything he has that they’ll get out someday. He’s left in the dark with his dreams.

 


End file.
